


Halver Hahn

by monanotlisa



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Canon Character of Color, Canon Compliant, Dialect, Europe, First Kiss, Food, German, Germany, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Partners to Lovers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Road Trips, Soldiers, Travel, Up all night to get Bucky, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:22:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3957436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monanotlisa/pseuds/monanotlisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve, Sam, and linguistic food challenges...or, food-related linguistic challenges? Challenged food linguistics? One of these, for sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halver Hahn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [longwhitecoats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/longwhitecoats/gifts).



> Follows the events of _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_.

Steve slowly scans the crowd in the shadow of the church: tourists, a few locals. Deliverymen doing their thing on this early Wednesday morning, noisily unloading piles of soda from a dented van into the back of a restaurant with a stylized deer head over the door. Steve pulls the brim of his baseball hat deeper into his face and and glances down at the clothing he wears, as nondescript as it comes. No, he's pretty sure the Berlin Incident won't repeat here. Which is great. He does need his shoes, after all. 

Looking up from the cobblestoned street, Steve rolls his shoulders, then leans against the darkened brick wall behind him on the corner. He lets his gaze wander upward. Up and up and up, across triconch and apses, to the soaring cross-tower of the basilica across the square. There is no sunlight glinting off the dark shingles of the church roof, its carefully carved walls, but the sandstone still manages to almost-glow, even after more than a thousand years. 

His fingers find their way into his bag of their own volition, reaching for pen and drawing pad that he didn't bring along from their little hotel room. This is a recon mission; this is not a morning stroll including sitting down for _Kaffee_ in this ancient city built on the foundations of a Roman encampment. Following the breadcrumbs out of Kiev, they've made their meandering way west.

"Steve," he hears, and his heart beats faster once, twice, for different reasons. Sam's smile is softer than his padded jacket, and he reaches out to touch Steve by the elbow. "Admiring the view?"

He looks at Sam's face, the spark in his brown eyes, the the smudged stubble of a beard on his cheeks. Sam's hair has grown out a little, curling tightly. It makes him look less like the winged veteran he is and much more like yet another American visitor to Germany. If the rest of them were as handsome and brave as Sam, that is. "Yeah," Steve hears himself say, "Admiring the view."

Sam's smile shifts into something else -- warm, still, even hot. "Good," he murmurs, "and you'll like it even better in a second." Sliding his backpack to the side, Sam pulls out a brow paper bag that he holds out in front of Steve.

Inside are bread rolls with...two slices of cheese each. Looks like Gouda: nice stuff, especially on bread that's crisp on the outside, mellow on the inside, and thickly buttered to boot. "Thanks," he says and means it; Steve is fond of German-style sandwiches for all times of day, full of cheese, sliced sausage, or cut meats. Still, this is simply cheese on bread and does not quite warrant Sam's grin. He quirks an eyebrow, and Sam doesn't disappoint:

"See that little kiosk over there?" Sam thumbs behind him. "I asked a German kid what the food sign said, and she said it meant 'half a chicken'. So of course I ordered it, for a bargain price of three euro. And what did I get? These babies." Sam waves a sandwich out of his own bag and lifts it to Steve as if in toast. 

Steve hides his smile behind a big bite, and the taste of the cheese, mustard and pickles and a dash of pepper, makes him realize how hungry he is. He paces himself because his mama raised him right as long as she could, but the first one's finished quickly, comfort spreading through his limbs. "The kid, she wasn't messing with you, Sam. Half-a-chicken is what they call bread rolls with cheese here in Cologne."

Sam leans against the wall right next to Steve, so close that their shoulders touch. He chews his own sandwich and raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, I kinda figured that. What I didn't figure was how much of an education your personal Europe tour had given you." And when Sam says 'education' there's amusement, but also sympathy in his eyes. 

_This_ , his looks says, _was the nice part; the part where you meet different people, cultures._

But. _Yeah._ Steve nods and finishes the bread. Out loud, he says, "Thanks for breakfast, Sam."

"You're welcome." Soft, sure. Sam tilts his head, his eyes following two young guys walking past. They are wearing skinny jeans and holding hands. Sam looks back to him and holds Steve's gaze. "This is not a bad place."

In spite of the gray morning, the air around Steve feels chilly no longer. "Maybe it's even a good one." He swallows and turns to fully face Sam, who mirrors his movement and carefully, without looking, drops his bag. "I've been thinking."

"Don't believe I haven't noticed you do this a lot." Sam leans in. "You don't have to do it too much. Not with regard to us."

"Ok," Steve murmurs, but he too steps even closer. He could count the lashes on Sam's eyes, or follow the angles of his cheekbones, or measure the curve of his mouth. He wants to say, _I trust you,_ but Sam already knows this, wouldn't be here otherwise. So when Sam reaches out and cups Steve's face in both of hands -- 

Steve, instead of saying, instead of thinking any more, lets gravity take over. Sam's lips are warm against his, solid. Steve can feel Sam smile, feel his fingertips stroking across Steve's skin, leaving trails of heat. When Sam slides his arms around Steve's chest and pulls him closer, Steve catches a breath and gladly gives it up again, to kiss Sam.

**Author's Note:**

> No, [really](https://learnaboutgermany.wordpress.com/tag/cologne/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [As Food to Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4095271) by [CloudAtlas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudAtlas/pseuds/CloudAtlas)




End file.
